


Pain Shared

by Rain Seaker (m00se)



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:51:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4112863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m00se/pseuds/Rain%20Seaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kala had never known loneliness until this moment. Until sitting at the hospital bed of the only brother he had ever known, knowing it was his fault Felix was there. How could he not be crying when it hurt this bad?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pain Shared

**Author's Note:**

> This changes POV pretty rapidly, just a forewarning.

Kala had never known what _alone_ felt like until this moment. She's sure she must have at some point. Because, of course, who doesn't know what _alone_ is?

But none of the many late night hours of self-study in that studio apartment she had loved like a second home throughout university had prepared her for this moment. Even then, thousands of miles from home, all she had to do was pick up her phone and know that someone would be on the other end if she called. Her parents or siblings, aunts and uncles, friends and coworkers, the phone would always have a voice at the other end that would be happy to hear from her.

The joys and misery of having a large family meant there was very little in the way of privacy, but loneliness had never really affected her, not like this.

Not like sitting at the hospital bed of the only brother he had ever known, knowing it was his fault Felix was there. Not like your heart was getting ripped out of your chest and you couldn't stop crying at the stupid movie your parents had brought you to try cheer you up about Rajan. How could he not be crying when it hurt this bad?

Kala couldn't stop her shoulders from shaking, couldn't stop her rasping breath, and the sopping wet tears streaking down her face. _Why wasn't he crying_?  She could feel exactly what he was feeling, echoing through the cluster, banging around in her head, making her heart clench and she hated it.

Wolfgang had never known the unconditional love of family like she had. Felix was his only friend, his brother in more than blood, his brother by choice. He hadn’t been alone because Felix was there through the good times and the bad. He hadn't been alone since before his father's death.

He could almost have forgotten what it felt like, had been hoping to forget, except...

How could she forget? When _alone_ had been carving its way through her innards ever since the mountain top, since Magnus… and… and… _why hadn’t she been left there_? She hadn’t wanted to wake up, to be in a world without them. What was hypothermia, or frostbite, or _afterbirth_ compared to this? To feeling so empty, to drowning in their silence.

She hadn’t known before that night, before the car crash, or the birth, or the mountaintop. She hadn’t known just how deadly loneliness could be, except…

He was terrified of it. He was terrified of returning to that young boy who was so confused by his emotions, who was scared that if anyone ever found out it would all be over. He had looked at other boys in the locker room laughing and joking about girls. He didn’t join them, he couldn’t stop staring at Jose’s broad shoulders and muscled back. He remembered the horror at his own mind and body that had betrayed him.

Until Hernando had shown up he had always kept a bit of that disgust of himself, even through one night stands and the men that were just as scared as him. Hernando had changed him. He was more beautiful than the art he described with such passion. He was a religious experience that he would pray at the alter for.

Then, he was terrified of something else entirely, of being alone again. Of what it was like before Hernando was there, except…

She had overcome it. Had been drowned and burned and swallowed by it in high school. Had been pushed and prodded by her family to not be what she is. Had felt so, _so_ alone surrounded by people that didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, and would never try to understand. Would ignore her or tell her it was wrong, that it was just a _fucking phase_.

It was hard, because of course it was fucking hard. She had separated from her family and former life, who she loved and _hated_. Why hadn’t they even _tried_ until after the fact? She had done it alone, because _fuck them_ , it was _worth_ it. She had never felt so _right_ , like her skin finally fit. All of the curses and glares, all of the insults and disgusting curiosity on their faces, might has well have felt like the viruses bouncing off a firewall. Who cared what they thought, what _any of them_ thought?

And then, she didn’t have to do it _alone_. She found someone that accepted and loved her and it was like she could _breathe_ for the first time _._ Amanita was like the sun to a wilted flower, fierce and bright and nourishing. She was like a cleansing rain, washing away the dirt of narrow minded bigotry. She hadn’t known then just how worn she had felt until Amanita had mended her.

She hadn’t known how much loneliness could erode, except…

He had accepted it. He had lived with the disappointment of coming home to empty house after school. He had done his homework by himself, and cooked and cleaned. He had done laundry and fixed the house.

And when the bartenders would call late at night he would take the L and find his father too drunk to walk or stand correctly. He would take the keys from the bartender and at fourteen years old he would illegally drive him home, because there _was no one else_ and driving underage and sober is better than tired and drunk. The police force was a brotherhood, all for one and one for all, got to stick together, except when it came to getting drunk old legends home.

He loved his father, but sometimes it really sucked having to deal with it alone, except…

She understood her father. She understood his distance and silence, his attempts to forget she existed. She knew the pain he felt when his wife, _her mother_ , had died. She even understood her brother, his attempts to smother himself in drink and money and privilege to forget they ever had a mother, but she could not forgive them.

She could not forgive her brother’s irresponsible actions and disregard for others. She could not forgive her father’s purposeful ignorance. She could not forgive the unbalanced love and attention. She had tried so hard for her family to be the perfect daughter and sister, to support the business and them, but it _ached_. It had ached since her mother’s passing and only grew and grew until the bitterness was almost overwhelming.

She had fought it, until she almost couldn’t _bear_ it.

Then… she bought a dog.

The dog didn’t help everything, but at least she wasn’t _alone_ anymore.

Kala could barely gasp her way through the onslaught: terror, depression, heartache, acceptance, understanding, sadness, _loneliness_. She couldn’t stop _crying_.

How could they stand it? _She couldn’t._

She felt the warmth then, the missing link in the collection of overwhelming loneliness. Like stepping outside on a dusty, hot day. Like watching a Van Damnne movie with friends on a tiny dirty couch on a glorious 42 inch Samsung TV. Like crying out the agony of loss on a mother’s shoulder.

“Pain shared is pain halved.” Capheus was smiling. He was always smiling, like he was the happiest guy in the world. Maybe he was. He had never truly been alone, but he knew heartbreak as much as any in the cluster. Kala could feel it as if his pain was her own, but it wasn’t as overwhelming as the rest. She could feel his arms rest around her shoulders as if he was really there, the hug was as comforting as her own mothers. “Go to him, company always helps.”

Capheus disappeared before she could say another word, but with him a little of the loneliness left as well.

 


End file.
